


The Tour

by thatwriterlady



Series: 30 Day Writing Challenge 2018 [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Likes Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Likes Castiel, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, History Teacher Dean, M/M, Making a date, Shy Castiel, Smart Dean Winchester, Southern Plantation, Sweet, Teacher Dean Winchester, Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady
Summary: Dean, Sam, and their friends have the opportunity to tour a genuine southern plantation, something Dean is extremely excited about.  The owner of the house is happy to give the tour but Dean wants a little more than that.  He wants a date with the handsome man too.





	The Tour

**Author's Note:**

> Here is Day 14. I hope you like it. I'm off to write the next one now.

**Day 14- Mint**

 

“What kind of place is this?”  Charlie asked as she pushed open the front door.  It creaked rather loudly, giving the already spooky feel the place had even more credence. 

 

“It’s like, a local history museum, but not quite,”  Sam swiped at a spider web that caught on his hair and blew it out of his face.  Dean slid past him, stepping into the grand foyer and looking around. 

 

“Does someone live here?  Should we be just walking in like this?”  Andrea asked from her spot on the porch.

 

“It says on the door, hours of operation, noon to four on Saturdays.  It’s currently two.  The door was unlocked, so that means they’re open,”  Charlie stated, pointing to the sign on the door.

 

“Tours of honest to god southern plantation homes are rare.  We’re lucky this family is opening theirs up to visitors,”  Dean walked over to a painting on the wall, his boots falling heavy on the wood floors.  It was of this house, and the large expanse of lawn that surrounded it.  There was an old oak tree in the right corner of the painting with a swing hanging from it, and in the distance they could see the tobacco crops that must have grown here back then.  The house, an old plantation one, looked fresh and new in the painting.  It wasn’t that it didn’t look good now, because clearly someone had gone through the pains to maintain it, but that maintenance seemed to have stopped in recent years.  The paint was curling from the humidity, the porch had spots where the wood was warping, the screen door, as they’d opened it had proven to be broken, and then there were the spider webs.  The seemed to be everywhere, giving the place the eerie vibe Charlie pointed out.  To Dean though, the place was fascinating, so full of history, telling the stories of lives long past, and he was a history teacher for a reason.  Places like this could be treasure troves of information if you knew where to look and who to ask. 

 

“I guess so,”  Benny was coming through the door, his wife, Andrea clinging to his hand as she swatted another spider web away.  She shuddered and grimaced as it clung to her hair.  Benny saw her struggling to remove it and let go of her hand to get it out for her.

 

“This place is fantastic.  I looked into the history before we got here and this house?  It was, among other things owned by D.M. Novak, a Union sympathizer.  He would hide Union soldiers here, in hidden rooms, and he hid slaves passing through on the Underground Railroad.  He was found out though, near the end of the war, and shot for his crimes, but his son Michael continued his legacy.  It’s still in the Novak family, owned now by the great, great, great grandson, and he’s supposed to be around here somewhere.  The website said certain rooms were off limits, but that we can see some of the hidden rooms that D.M. built to hide the soldiers and the slaves.  I am eager to look around, but there’s an entrance fee, and I need to find out who we pay that to before we just go traipsing around,”  Dean said as he stared at the painting, leaning closer to get a better look.  There was someone in one of the windows…

 

“That would be me that you pay,”

 

They all turned to see a man standing there.  He was incredibly attractive, though his expression was quite serious.  Dean crossed the room and offered his hand.

 

“I feel mighty privileged to have the opportunity to be here today, sir.  How much do we owe you?”

 

“Please, my name is Castiel, no need to call me sir.  It’s twenty five for the group.  Money goes towards maintaining this place.  As you can see, I haven’t had many visitors the last few years.  It would seem that history is not valued as much as it once was,”

 

The man had a deep voice that made his slow, southern drawl sound even better.  Dean stared into the man’s eyes for a moment before pulling his wallet out and handing over the money.  Castiel nodded graciously and motioned to the room behind him.

 

“This would have been the parlor.  Everything is original to the house.  The things you see were once purchased or built by D.M. himself.  His name was Daniel Martin Novak.  Martin was his mother’s maiden name.  In my family, going many generations back, children were named after saints, angels, or biblical figures.  It is a tradition that has been passed down for no less than the last three hundred years.  I, myself am named after an angel, as is my sister, Anael, and my brother, Gabriel,”  He stopped in a room that was softly lit with light from a series of lamps, lending to the ambiance that Daniel and his wife would have experienced in generations past.  There were heavy curtains hanging on the windows and beautiful velvet chairs.  The tables were teak, no doubt imported.  From everything Dean had learned, Daniel Novak had been a very rich man in his day.  He studied the crystal decanter and the tumblers on the sideboard, all of which stood empty now.  They had to be worth a small fortune.  Castiel was lucky no one had robbed him.  He turned to see the man talking with Charlie and Andrea about a painting on the wall.  It was of a fox hunt, and he was explaining to them about the hunts that had gone on centuries earlier, and how his ancestor had led quite a few of them himself.  Castiel was handsome, and the way he was dressed made him look like he had stepped right out of the 40’s.  He wore black dress pants, a white dress shirt, and a black waistcoat.  The pants reminded him of the kind Fred Astaire had worn in movies as he danced, and he half expected Castiel to start dancing.  The man certainly seemed to have the legs and ass for it. 

 

As if sensing he was being watched, he turned to look at Dean.  He’d notice out in the foyer that Castiel’s eyes were blue, though it was hard to see in this dim lighting, and his hair was mussed up, but it seemed to work for him.  He arched an eyebrow as Dean walked over to him.

 

“Have you continued the tradition?”

 

Castiel tilted his head, his brow furrowing.  “What do you mean?”

 

“With the names.  Are your children named after angels and saints?” 

 

Castiel smiled softly, but there was a hint of sadness to it.  “No, I don’t have children.  My sister though, she has two and she has continued it.  Jacob and Rebecca, but they’re not Novak in name, only in blood.  She wasn’t interested in helping me keep this place up, so she signed her share over to me about ten years ago.  My brother did the same.  It’s mine, and only mine.  I suppose it will go to either my niece or nephew one day, though I doubt it will remain in the family at that point.  They’re not interested in the past, or in our family’s history.  I may put it in my will to give it to the historical society.  I’ve not yet decided,”

 

“You don’t think you’ll get married and have children?”  Dean was pained by the sadness that tinged his voice as he talked, as though he expected to live out the rest of his life alone.

 

“I am…not fond of the ladies, and that doesn’t go over well round these parts.  It’s unlikely I’ll get married and have children of my own,”

 

“I suppose there’s still a healthy amount of homophobia here in the south.  I’m sorry people are the way they are.  We’re from Kansas, and it’s there too.  Charlie and me?  We’re not straight either.  I’ve had stuff thrown at me, even had a beer bottle smashed over my head once when I took a date into a bar.  Charlie had some old woman hit her with her cane just for walking down the street holding hands with her girlfriend.  We don’t let it bother us though.  We’re better than them,”

 

Sam and the others had wandered into the next room leaving Dean alone with Castiel. 

 

“You’re gay?”  Castiel asked, his eyes wide and bright, even in the low light.

 

Dean shrugged.  “Mostly,”

 

Castiel tilted his head again, a gesture Dean found just made the man seem even more charming than he already was.

 

“What does that mean “mostly”?”

 

“Charlie is a lesbian, I’m bi, though the older I get, the more my preference leans towards men,”

 

Castiel nodded.  “Ah, now I understand.  It’s a shame that in this day and age, people still think so negatively towards one another.  I might be gay but I’m still human.  I deserve respect, and I’m a nice person.  It would be nice to make some friends.  People in town tend to avoid me,”

 

“Their loss.  I think you’re perfectly nice,”  Dean must have said the right thing because suddenly the man was practically beaming at him.

 

“Why thank you…,”

 

“Dean, Dean Winchester,”  He offered his hand and Castiel shook it, nodding politely as he did so.

 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dean,”

 

“So, care to show me around some more?  I really am fascinated by the history of this property,”  Dean smiled and was glad to see the change in the other man.  Castiel seemed happy now.

 

“Of course.  I’ll give you the exclusive tour, the one I don’t give to most people,”

 

“I like the sound of that.  Does it end with me getting to take you to dinner this evening?”  Dean chuckled with how fast the other man whipped his head around to look at him.

 

“You, you want to take me to dinner?”

 

“I would like to, yes,”  Dean replied.  That happy smile was back on Castiel’s lips once more.

 

“I would like that _very_ much,”

 

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

 

The tour went slower, with more details being shared, and Castiel enjoyed showing them around.  Dean’s excitement over the hidden rooms was enjoyable to witness, and he liked just how much the man already knew, about the Confederate War, about this property, and about the house itself.  It was refreshing meeting someone that didn’t come for this tour being completely clueless.  He liked educating people and sharing his family’s history, but finding someone that was intelligent and truly interested was just as nice.

 

The tour went much longer, lasting until well past four, and Dean was impressed when Castiel even showed him his bedroom.  That was updated, showing bits of the man’s personality, from the gray plaid comforter on the bed to the pictures hanging on the walls.  He wondered if later he’d get to see more of this room, preferably without his brother and friends lingering nearby. 

 

“I’m impressed with the upkeep you’ve put into this place.  The furniture and art are all in mint condition, even if the wallpaper is peeling a bit and the floors are a little warped.  It’s humid here.  I would happily fix that stuff for you,”  Dean lingered after everyone else had headed out to Sam’s truck.  The only one riding with Dean was Charlie because they hadn’t all fit in the truck.  She had gone out to the car and was looking out across the field from her spot leaning back against the trunk.

 

“But you have to return to Kansas,”  That sad tone was back in Castiel’s voice, but when Dean took his hand, he turned wide, questioning eyes on him.

 

“Not for a while, I don’t.  I’m here for the next few months, even after my brother and friends go home.  How about we go on a date, enjoy ourselves, and go from there, ok?  I like you, Castiel, and I’d like the chance to get to know you,”

 

Castiel smiled and squeezed his hand.  “I look forward to that,”

 

“Do me a favor,”  Dean said.

 

“Of course, what is it?” 

 

“Wear exactly what you have on right now.  You are like, insanely hot dressed like this,”  Dean tugged on his hand, pulling him closer.  He liked the way the other man blushed.

 

“Truly?”

 

“Yes, truly.  I like seeing you like this,”  Dean was being serious.  He would be having many a fantasy about Castiel dressed like this over the next few days.

 

“Alright, I won’t change then,”  Castiel smiled wide as Dean gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go.

 

“I’ll be back at seven.  First I have to drop Charlie off, and I’d actually like to find something nicer to wear,”

 

“I’ll be ready at seven,”  Castiel leaned a hand against one of the pillars that held up the roof over the porch and watched as Dean headed down to his car.  He liked Dean and he was looking forward to their date later.  Hopefully it wasn’t a one-time thing, and maybe they could keep talking once Dean had returned to Kansas. 

 

As they pulled away, he checked his watch.  It was almost six.  Dean would be back soon, so he had to hurry and close the house up.  Tonight he wanted to let go and enjoy himself, and he would have a handsome date to do that with.  Things were looking up.  As he went to walk back into the house he noticed that the bead board ceiling of the porch was missing a few strips of wood.  He’d have to add that to his long list of things to fix.  Right now though, he wanted to shave and freshen up before Dean returned.  The porch and all other repairs could wait until later.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this, and I hope you liked it. We're off to the next one!


End file.
